


Christmas Past

by Shadowheartdesigns (shadowkitten)



Series: Smoke and Mirrors [11]
Category: Princess Principal (Anime)
Genre: Christmas, Closure, F/F, Implied/Referenced Character Death, graveside visit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-06 01:11:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12806313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowkitten/pseuds/Shadowheartdesigns
Summary: The next Christmas Eve, Dorothy and Beatrice visit two graves.





	Christmas Past

A sporadic snow was falling. A soft and gentle sound broke the otherwise total silence where flakes landed on snow. The sky above was dark grey. Still. It felt right somehow. Fitting the place. The time.

Beatrice shivered. The breeze was chilly. The snowflakes landing on the tip of her nose tickled her skin. She wrinkled her nose, holding back a sneeze. She wore a dark blue winter dress, dark stockings, and her bonnet. It was a warm outfit. She still shivered. It wasn't all due to the cold.

She glanced over at Dorothy. The older girl wore her green travel-dress. The snowflakes were piling up on her hat. Her expression was difficult to read. Her eyes were wide, focused on a map held in her left hand. Beatrice told herself they were standing here, under the light by the gate, because Dorothy wanted to be sure of the route to take. She told herself that.

She sighed. Her breath rose in thin wisps up into the sky. Dorothy didn't react. Beatrice squeezed her hand.

Dorothy blinked, and glanced at Beatrice. A thin, forced smile crossed her lips.

"Sorry, Sweet. I just ... I guess I'm ready."

Beatrice nodded softly.

"Just a bit cold to be standing here."

Dorothy shrugged.

"Won't be any warmer in there, you know."

Beatrice nodded.

"I know. Still, we should get going. I mean, it will help. It really will."

Dorothy sighed.

"I guess so."

"Hey. This was your idea, Doro. It's not like I object, but ... I mean, don't have doubts now."

"Yeah. You're right Beato."

She took a very deep breath. Letting it out in a thin steam of smoky mist.

She squeezed Beatrice's hand again, and entwined their gloved fingers together.

"Let's go."

Beatrice nodded. Together, they took one step forward. The snow crunched beneath their feet.

Beatrice pulled on the iron gate. It opened slowly, with an ominous creak.

"Hey ... you suppose we should be doing this? I mean, it is late. We can wait til tomorrow, right?"

Beatrice shook her head.

"We said we'd do it on Christmas Eve. That's tonight."

"Yeah, I know Sweet. I mean ... yeah. Let's go."

The snow crunched under their feet. They crossed under the stone arch. Through the iron gate.

Dorothy shuddered.

"Have I told you how much I hate these places?"

"Not really," Beatrice said quietly.

"I hate these places."

They crunched along the path. It didn't take long for them to reach the first tombstones. Small, simple memorials. Tall, elaborate statues of angels. Tall crosses. Beatrice found it vaguely distasteful how beautiful and festive they looked with their coating of snow, and pine needles. And how it all glittered like a Christmas tree in the dim gaslight.

Beatrice glanced at Dorothy. She was glancing from time to time at her map. Her face didn't hold any emotions. Beatrice wasn't too sure if that was a good or bad sign.

She squeezed Dorothy's hand again.

"Hmm? You okay Sweet?"

"Yeah. I'm just worried about you."

"Ahh. I can handle this. It's nothing. Nothing at all really. Least I don't have to stare these corpses in the eyes."

Beatrice wasn't sure if that was a joke. Dorothy didn't act like it was. She chose to squeeze Dorothy's hand again rather than saying anything.

The snow crunched underfoot. Down the path. Dorothy directed them to the left at a crosswalk.

"First one's up here a bit," she whispered.

Beatrice nodded.

Crunch. Crunch. Beatrice normally loved the sound. The sound of her feet crunching snow. It was a peaceful sound. A sound of childhood. Of wandering the acres of her father's estate. Rolling snow, and building snowmen. Usually on her own. The staff were normally preoccupied with keeping her father content while she was out of his sight.

Dorothy stopped, and Beatrice took a deep breath. She looked up at Dorothy.

"Should be here," she whispered. Beatrice nodded.

Dorothy took another step, glancing at her map. She took a very deep breath, and let it out in a deep shivering sigh.

"Yeah. Here."

It was a low, simple tombstone. Basically just a slab of marble carved with a name and two dates.

Dorothy untangled her fingers from Beatrice's, and the younger girl reluctantly let her hand fall to her side.

The older brunette knelt down. She blinked. She reached out a gloved hand, and gently pushed the snow off the top. And ran her fingers along the face, pushing the snow away from the carved letters.

_Daniel MacBean_

_b 18xx . d 19xx_

Dorothy took another deep breath.

"Hey dad."

Beatrice shivered, and closed her eyes.

"Happy Christmas."

Beatrice opened her eyes again, and looked up into the sky. A dark cloud moved slowly overhead. Very dark grey, sharply contrasted to the lighter grey of the clouds above. Snow continued to fall. She blinked as a snowflake landed in her eyelashes.

"Not sure what else to say, dad."

Beatrice looked down at Dorothy. The older girl blinked. Her cheeks were shimmering in the dim and flickering light.

Beatrice stepped closer to her, and placed a comforting hand on her back.

Dorothy looked up at her, blinking, and smiled sadly.

"Thanks, Sweet. Hey dad? You remember Beatrice? She's here too."

"Ummm. Happy Christmas, Mister MacBean," she said in a wavering voice.

Dorothy shook her head, and looked back at the tombstone.

"Well. I guess you were half-right when you said I'd never get a man."

Beatrice couldn't suppress a giggle.

"Beato and me, well ... we're kind of a thing."

Beatrice sighed, but didn't say anything.

"Been almost a year. I wish I could say it was the happiest of my life, but ...."

Dorothy closed her eyes, and Beatrice rubbed her back in slow, gentle circles.

"Well. Listen, dad. I don't know if you'd approve or not, but I just wanted you to know."

Dorothy reached back, grasping Beatrice's hand in hers. Beatrice squeezed, interlocking their fingers, and knelt down beside her.

Dorothy smiled at her. Such a sad expression. Beatrice shivered.

"So. I mean, I don't know what else to say to you dad. I love you. I hope you did understand that at some point before ... I mean, when was the last time I actually told you that?"

She shrugged, and glanced at Beatrice once more.

"Anyway. Happy Christmas, dad. And Happy New Year, just in case I can't get back here before then."

"Happy Christmas, Mister MacBean," Beatrice said quietly.

They stayed there for a moment, before Dorothy squeezed Beatrice's hand.

"Okay. Let's go."

Beatrice nodded. Together, they pulled themselves up to their feet. The snow was already beginning to cover the tombstone again.

Dorothy glanced at her map.

"Okay. Back this way, then down a bit."

Beatrice nodded.

They turned, and walked back to the main path. Dorothy stole a glance at Beatrice. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were bright red.

"You okay, Sweet? Not too cold?"

"I'm fine, Doro."

Dorothy nodded.

The snow crunched underfoot. Beatrice thought back to last year. Running in the snow. How it crunched. How it didn't seem particularly cold. There hadn't been much breeze. Or before it all happened there wasn't much reason to feel a chill, and then later there was too much stress to feel it.

"Down this way," Dorothy whispered.

Dorothy guided them down a right-hand path. The snow continued to fall. Their feet crunched the snow below them. A mass of snow fell off of the bough of a pine tree, forming a loose messy pile with a light soft sound.

After a few more steps, Dorothy stopped.

"Here," she said. Beatrice nodded.

Their hands parted, and both knelt down this time. It was another small, simple tombstone, snow piled up in front of it almost entirely obscuring its nature. Dorothy reached out and shoved the snow away. Beatrice helped, pushing snow off the top of the memorial.

_Eleanor xxx_

_b 18xx . d 19xx_

Dorothy took a deep breath.

"Happy Christmas, Prefect. I mean ... Eleanor."

"Happy Christmas," Beatrice whispered.

Beatrice placed her arm over Dorothy's shoulders.

"So. Been a year, huh? Didn't expect me back here I bet. After being away from you for so long, I mean. So ... Not sure what to say to you. I do think of you as a friend, I really do. Not just saying that. I wish ...."

She glanced at Dorothy. Her cheeks shimmered in the dim light again.

Beatrice sighed, and gently wiped her girlfriend's tears away.

Dorothy chuckled softly, blinked, and looked back down at the tombstone.

"I don't know how to say it. I wish I had paid more attention to you I guess. I mean ... you remember Beatrice, right?"

Beatrice didn't say anything. There was the soft hiss of snow falling around them.

"Yeah, she and I are a couple now. I know what you're thinking: ' _Now_?' "

Beatrice was glad the cold was making her cheeks red.

"Okay, there was something there then too. I guess. Anyway, this makes it a bit awkward, because telling you that I wish we had been closer ...."

Dorothy was shivering. Beatrice moved closer to her, wrapping both arms around her.

"It's okay, Doro."

Dorothy nodded.

"See why I love her? Anyway, Eleanor. I guess, what I am trying to say is I kinda like you. That funfair we went to ... well, I had a really good time too. I don't remember if I really said that. If I said that I enjoyed your company. I did. I really, really did."

Dorothy closed her eyes.

"Sorry, Beato."

"For what?"

Dorothy shrugged.

"Just ... what I'm saying now. If Eleanor and I had ... then you and I might not ...."

"Might. Don't second-guess things, Doro. You and I did. I love you, Dorothy."

She chuckled, and opened her eyes. Met Beatrice's gaze, and smiled.

"Love you, Beatrice."

Then she turned back to the tombstone.

"Well. Anyway. I ... I love you, Eleanor. And I am sorry things happened the way they did. Really sorry."

"Happy Christmas, Eleanor," Beatrice whispered.

"Yeah. Happy Christmas."

They stayed there for another moment. Watching as the snow piled up. Obscuring the tombstone again. Then finally, with a shuddering sigh, Dorothy stood up.

Beatrice stood a moment later, an arm around Dorothy's waist. The older girl placed an arm over Beatrice's shoulders.

"Okay. Yeah. Let's go."

Beatrice nodded.

"Alright."

The snow crunched underfoot. The snow fell in soft whispering flakes around them. The dim light made the snow glitter like a Christmas tree.

"I feel like having a hot toddy. Then eggnog. Then a bottle or two of whiskey."

Beatrice giggled softly.

"A proper Christmas celebration?"

Dorothy smirked.

"Why not. Just us two, though."

"Okay. Sounds nice."

"Don't get too drunk though, Beato. You're gonna have to drive us home."

"Ah! No way, Doro! Remember what happened last time?"

Dorothy laughed.

"I really have to teach you how to handle a car one of these days."

Beatrice smiled. Walking alongside Dorothy, as they walked up the main path. Past the simple tombstones. The angel statues and crucifixes. The pine trees and the piles of snow.

They exited the gate, and Beatrice pushed it closed. It creaked, and clanged shut.

Dorothy stood there a moment, under the gaslight in front of the gated entrance to the cemetery. She shivered. She looked down, into Beatrice's eyes. Beatrice blinked, somewhat uncertain.

"I love you, Beatrice," Dorothy whispered.

"I love you too, Dorothy."

Dorothy smiled. Happiness and sadness mingled in the expression.

"Thanks for coming with me. I don't think I could've done this alone."

"Thank you for inviting me, Doro."

Dorothy nodded, and took a deep breath.

"Okay. Let's you and me get tanked!"

Beatrice giggled.

"Okay."


End file.
